


Puppy Tails - Sleep Where he Falls

by Aurora_bee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Breakfast, Funny, Gen, Humor, M/M, Puppies, Puppy Kisses, Silly, Tired Sherlock, Under the Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2637311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_bee/pseuds/Aurora_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is exhausted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy Tails - Sleep Where he Falls

There was a hard uncomfortable surface underneath him, his cheek was slightly damp and stuck to it. Sherlock lifted his head and wiped his mouth cringing, he was indeed drooling onto the floor. Groaning quietly he wiped a crusty bit from the corner of his mouth, and ran his fingers lazily over the surface of the floor, encountering rough worn material. The rug in his living room. If the old blanket draped over him was anything to go by, John had left him to sleep where he fell when they got back from the case.

“Jawn?” Sherlock groaned as he heard movement in the kitchen. There was a clatter of nails on the floor as Gladstone hurtled toward him and started to clean his ear with his rough tongue. “Oaf,” Sherlock groaned pushing himself into a sitting position and letting the happy puppy settle into his lap.

“I think we should probably get you to bed now that you’re not sticking to the floor like a limpet,” John said as he flicked on the kettle, angry at Sherlock for not taking care of himself.

“I feel terrible,” Sherlock groaned, his throat was dry and it felt like he’d swallowed sand as he tried to clear it.

“That will happen when you don’t sleep or eat properly for three days Sherlock,” John chastised as he folded his arms across his chest and looked at Sherlock’s dishevelled state. Sherlock stood carefully wobbling on his feet like a newly born faun, John’s annoyance suddenly dissipated.

“I feel a bit dizzy and my stomach doesn’t feel good,” Sherlock rubbed his at his eyes and took a tentative step toward John. 

“Come on you clot,” John said as put his arm around Sherlock and pulled him close. “Let’s sort you out. Some breakfast first and then you’re going back to bed.”

“Mmm..” Sherlock mumbled waggling his eyebrow as suggestively as he could.

“You’ve got a snowflakes chance in hell!” John replied as he helped Sherlock settle down into one chairs at the kitchen table. “Toast or Readybreck?” 

“Second one,” Sherlock grunted as he rested his chin on his hand, pretending he had some semblance of control over his consciousness.

 

John sat opposite Sherlock who was eating his now cold Readybrek painfully slowly, barely having the energy to lift the spoon to his mouth.

“Sherlock, come on why don’t you go to bed.” John suggested, taking his plate and putting it in the sink.

“M’fine,” Sherlock said snapping his attention to John before it faltered again and he gazed down unseeingly into the bowl of lumpy Readybrek.

John sighed and resigned himself to drink the rest of his tea and read his paper by the fire. He picked up his cup and walked over his chair keeping an eye on Sherlock as he did. Sherlock was barely awake keeping his head propped up on his hand and stretching his eyes open as wide as they would go every few seconds. John watched as if in slow motion as Sherlock finally lost the battle and landed face down in his breakfast.

“Shit!” John muttered seeing the headline in his head as he rushed over to help.

**The worlds only Consulting Detective drowns in own Porridge.**

John pushed a comatose Sherlock back into a sitting position and got a tea towel to wipe his face. The moment his back was turned Sherlock bonelessly slid down the chair onto the floor under the table.

“No Gladstone!” John shouted as the puppy liked the creamy mush off Sherlock’s face. John cringed inwardly as the puppy’s tongue delved a little too far into Sherlock’s nostrils and he started to nibble. “Gladstone I am cleaning your teeth later,” John chastised as he pushed the puppy away. He pulled Sherlock’s sleeping form out from under the table and dragged him by his armpits to their bedroom.

 

“John! John!” Sherlock called from his bed, John appeared moments later.

“Feeling better?” John asked as he sat down on the bed and brushed Sherlock’s curls out of his eyes. 

“My nose is really sore,” Sherlock said pouting. John looked down at Gladstone who was wagging his tail happily.

“Uhm…” John said scratching his head.

**Author's Note:**

> I am seriously cream crakered, I have been an idiot and would quite like to nap where I am.


End file.
